


5 years

by Kazanma



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, Fluff, Freedom, Implied imprisonment, M/M, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21766885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazanma/pseuds/Kazanma
Summary: 5 years is the time of the sentence. And Reinhardt has been enduring those days patiently.Now, as he's finally free, he finds that he's changed, and someone's waiting for him. He doesn't remember.
Relationships: Reinhardt/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	5 years

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've decided to make this fic on a whim, and while it's nothing like what I've made before, it's something that I wanted to share with you.
> 
> As always, if someone likes this fic, and starts shipping the pairing with me, I'll be happy. It's just so cute imagining how these two are together.

The first time he hears the metal rattle, he knows he's gonna be free. With a heavy step, the guard looks at Reinhard as he walks, his shoulders slumped, head low and his hands where the other man can see them.

"So, it's your first day as a free man, I suppose."

Reinhardt nods. The officer lightens up a bit, letting some of the pressure out. Like a spring about to jump out at anyone, then, Reinhardt walks by his side.

He can't help but to rub his arms. He's sure his nose is cold, too. But it's not like he can do much about it. The last time, well, that last time is not something he wants to, or cares to, remember.

These days, a lot of his memories are just... There. Lost in a sea of events that he can't make sense of, being aware of the price of remembering. They simply decided to leave, becoming malware. It's simple,by this point, as it stops hurting as it did the first times. Maybe, maybe, he could find someone out there, unless he left.

Many would do that. Olwen has more important things than visiting him, he recalls. It's not that he's angry with her. In fact, he can't bring himself to hate her. She did something, but Reinhardt was too far away to even try and reach out. 

"It comes with the territory. Many people walk out of this place and end up here, again. Can't understand why..."

He makes note of the man's features, as his internal speech loops around the same topics. Red hair, red eyes, tanned skin, except for his arms. They seem darker, but it's a matter of shades rather than actual color differences. Maybe the man comes from the coast, instead of the north. 

"Anyways, you should make the most of your life outside. Even if you lost everything, that's... Well, that's more of a reason to try, I guess. You don't have anything to lose, so doing new stuff should be easier, right?"

Reinhardt is staring back, dazed, looking beyond the man. He comes out of the trance in an instant, and nods. 

"Not too talkative, I guess... Well, I suppose you had someone out there, huh?"

"A sister. And..."

"Your partner, I assume?"

Reinhardt perks up at the mention, or implication, of him. Claude... Maybe he's out there? He doesn't know. He hopes that it is true. He can expect that from him, but a voice inside says that he shouldn't wish it.

"I've heard things like that. It's nice that he still tries to reach out, y'know? Not many people do." The man doesn't walk at a fast pace, as if he doesn't have any place to go except jail, and he seems to enjoy the moment. 

At this point, Reinhardt trails behind him, even if all he wants to do is go outside and finally see the outside world. While the few hours he had in there were good, he doesn't feel that enthusiastic about seeing the metal cage around him, trapping everyone inside like a swarm of butterflies in a jar. Maybe it's for the best that he's at the other side.

It's when he reaches the small cabin, in which a woman, probably in her fifties, hands him his personal belongings, that he manages to wake up, outside of everything he has in his brain.

A small deck of cards, a cellphone that's broken (with a spiderweb on the screen, like it should be, when he was arrested, he remembers), and his keys (his wallet was stolen minutes before the arrest. A man is dead because of him, too. But that last piece? He doesn't want to talk about it. Maybe his family was starving? He can't know for sure, and no one would care, either way, it's irrelevant in the grander scheme of things, just like him).

He doesn't get pushed aside, or anything. The woman doesn't sneer at him, and the officer is too patient for his liking, it irritates that part under his skin and he can't place the feeling but he only wants to get out get out get out—

Time is fleeting, somewhat. He just wants to go.

He steps out, seeing the light.

He's not used to this… thing. Freedom of choice. To do whatever he wants with his life. Reinhardt steps forward, looking everywhere. His heart beats strongly, and his hand grips the tube that's right beside him. It feels to familiar all over again. 

The day is brighter than what he remembers. It's okay. Things will get better, or so he heard. They are bound to be. And when compared to the rest of stuff that happened back there, he wonders if there's not a lot of damage that can be undone.

There's someone outside. Someone who might be familiar. His face… 

He assumes the man is angry at him, even if his expression betrays that. One particular strand of hair right next to his face, brown hair and skin. The man hugs Reinhardt when he's finally outside of the prison. Reinhardt stays still.

"I missed you," the man chooses his words, carefully. 

A moment of silence happens, and he lets go, but Reinhardt's hands are still locked with his.

There's a knot forming in his throat, makes it hard for him to breathe, to speak. It's like those moments where you know you did something wrong, but you have to keep arguing or else you lost the fight. A physical, mental barrier.

"I'm… I'm sorry, who are you?"

Maybe his question is more insensitive that what he thought. But, when it comes out, it's all he can say.

Reinhardt's memory is fuzzy, as he touches the man's hands. They feel warmer than his, and they smell of flowers. He probably used antibacterial. Or maybe he's so good with flowers, they left him a gift. 

"It's okay, Reinhardt," the man hugs him again, "I can understand."

Reinhardt doesn't step back, nor does he fight against him. He stays there, eyes fixated on the ground.

The only thing he remembers are the words "5 years", whatever that implies. It's the only thing he hears, and, surprisingly, in the same voice that's whispering sweet nothings in his ears.

Wind blows, and something he said strikes a chord in the man.

"You remember, right?" His words come out, and Reinhardt's feeling like his mind can't piece things by itself.

As if the shards of his mind are just… lying there, and he can't bring himself to pick them up without hurting himself. It hurts to remember the word, what it implies, what it takes.

"Claude." 

He manages to remember, to force himself to do it. That's what he gets back. It feels like a small victory, just something he stole from the monster inside him, and that, along with the sensation he receives from the places around him, is enough to remind him he's still alive.

Just… lost.

Claude smiles, kissing Reinhardt in the cheek, then, guiding him towards the car that's in front of him.

Reinhardt tries to speak again.

"I'm... I'm lost."

Just as he's walking with Claude, the man holding his hand smiles at him. Like he has everything figured out. Like he's the solution to this problem.

"It's okay. I can help you. It's what I'm here for, right?"

The question remains in Reinhardt's mouth, just as he's kissed again.

When Claude steps back, he grabs Reinhardt's head and bumps his head with his own. It's a bit painful for both, but it feels… liberating. To be like this. 

A brief moment of clarity makes Reinhardt close his eyes.

"That's… how much time have you been waiting for?"

The answer comes back at him, like it's something out of a script. Reinhardt hugs back when he hears it.

"I've been waiting for five years."

**Author's Note:**

> Well, allow me to thank you for reading this fic, as short as it is! But I'm fine with it. Since I'm not so good with writing in English, so these things get a bit complicated with grammar and I find myself stumbling around while the plot simply... Happened.


End file.
